meanoldpettiwig

By meanoldpettiwig

Collage at my feet

Trudging up the hill to home, this damp, grey midday.

The leaves were in perfect, crisp and papery heaps on Saturday, but those heaps are now wet and mud-spattered and I'm not at all tempted to run and kick through them any more.

Some have escaped though, and made rather lovely patchworks and collages on the pavement.

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